Losing
by loveembraceenjoy
Summary: You need tough skin to be friends with Merle Dixon. Bella Valasari has tough skin, and words like acid. But when she gets too comfortable with her new best friend, will she lose his respect? Or her sanity? NOTE: mention of violence, alcohol use, and swearing. It's Merle Dixon, guys. What do you expect?


BELLA'S POV

The morning after whiskey hazed nonsense was never a good morning for Bella. Opening her eyes she found herself on the threadbare couch of her uncle's hunting cabin. The faint light peering in from the nearest window didn't help her pounding head. Rolling over to face away her stomach churned and knotted. What the Hell was wrong with her? There was no way she had had enough to drink to feel this way. Patting the pockets of her jeans she didn't feel her phone anywhere, feeling a slight annoyance she dug under the couch cushions and felt around the loose change, something squishy she didn't even want to know, then finally her phone.

Battery almost dead she pressed her photo icon and began to leaf through the pics that were dated from the previous night, all seemed pretty normal… for a bit. Various pictures of Merle and Daryl fooling around and selfies she managed to make take, though they showed pure disinterest. But the last and picture timed was 1:43am, it wasn't like them to come home before dawn. Shrugging it off, Bella staggered off the couch and shuffled to the shower, hoping to wash away the leftover dirt and hangover.

MERLE'S POV

A soft sigh was heard close by and a warm hand had brushed his arm. Opening his eyes quickly, Merle shot up to see a stranger in his bed. A thin framed, bleach blonde was looking up at him, a soft smile present on her lips. The grizzly redneck rubbed his eyes, and let out a growl due to his present headache. It was too early for this shit. "Ey there, Blondie. Think it's time ya get on outta 'ere." He mumbled as he crawled out of bed and shoved on his mud worn boots. How she got there was a blur, but he was damn sure used to that. Grabbing a cigarette pack off of his floor he put one between his lips and searched for a lighter in his pockets. To his dismay it wasn't there. Letting out a frustrated grunt he figured Daryl must have taken it. "Sorry ass lil' brother" he mumbled under his breath.

Turning his head back to his bed he saw the blonde looking up at him, giving him a look of loathing. That simply made him laugh which angered her more. She grabbed her shoes and pushed past him with an angry huff, and headed out the front door. "finally some damn peace". He said to himself, replacing the cigarette back to his mouth but again realizing his damn light was still gone. With an exasperated sigh, the elder Dixon walked out of the cabin and took in a breath of the cool morning air. The slight chill was nice, but this damn sun had to quit. Shuffling his feet he walked to the cabin next door and walked right it, just as she had always done to him.

The place looked deader than a strip club on Tuesday. The floor was littered with cigarette butts and beer bottles, in the corner of the living room was what appeared to be a shatter bottle of whiskey. The redneck raised his brows and chuckled slightly, just imagining what could of happened the night before. "Ey Bells, ya 'ere"? he called out. He listened for a moment but no vocal response. Just the sound of running water. Slowly he stepped over the glass and pressed his ear to the bathroom door, she had to be the one in there. Looking at his feet he the clothes she had disposed of, and sticking out of the pocket of her jeans, was his damn lighter.

Bending down to pick it up, irritation now racking his mind, Merle didn't notice the shower stop. As soon as his rough fingers gripped the lighter, the door opened, and there was a towel clad Bella glaring down at him through all of the steam that was exiting the small bathroom.

BELLA'S POV

God that shower was just what she needed. The hot water flowed down her body and she watched as the soap suds and dirt rushed down the drain. Turning off the water she grabbed the towel off the floor and wrapped it around her frame, jerking open the door she stopped in her tracks and nearly jumped out of her skin, kneeling in front of the door was Merle. She felt her face heat up and her hands gripped her towel tighter. "What the fuck are you doing here"? she spat. Hazel eyes looking down at him, looking over his body seeing he had a lighter in his hand.

That was fine, she supposed. Ready to brush it off until her eyes met his exposed neck. There on his flesh was a deep purple mark… now she knew why she must have ditched him and Daryl earlier that morning…. He found another woman to take home. Clenching her jaw she kicked his shoulder just firmly enough for him to lose balance and land on his ass. She knew there was not a woman in the world that could tie Merle Dixon down, but she sure as Hell didn't want to know about his drunken escapades in the bedroom. She walked past him and began to dig around for clean clothes and ignore as his piercing blue eyes flashed wildly. She had lit his fuse now.

MERLE'S POV

Gazing up at her tan legs he smirked but was quickly shoved onto his ass. His jaw set and he got to his feet, standing tall he approached her. The fuck was her damn problem? She was the one who made off with his lighter. Not like he peeped on her or nothing. Fucking city broad sure knew how to cop an attitude. "Sugar, ya wanna apologize for that"? he said with his signature southern drawl. She had completely ignored him and was rummaging through the piles of junk. He pressed his body against hers, easily towering over her. "I'm talkin' to ya". He growled. She continued to look down and gather some clothes in her hands, but this time she muttered "fuck you" under her breath. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, he had seen her mouth off to a lot of sorry sons o' bitches, but not him. "Princess, I think I may have had somethin cloggin my ears… you wanna repeat that"? He felt his face grow warm, and he clenched and unclenched his fists. This was her chance to take it back.

BELLA'S POV

Feeling her chest get tight and her heart race, she knew he wasn't about to walk away from this mess. His warmth against her brought a familiar feeling from the week before when she was in his bed. She didn't care she had pissed him off, she was through. She got too close to this selfish prick and wasn't about to let it go any farther. "I said fuck you, you stupid, piece of shit redneck cunt"! she screamed. Her eyes met his, and she could tell running her mouth was not the right thing to do.

MERLE'S POV

Now she'd done it, this girl really could get under his skin. He's heard this shit before, all his life actually. From his damn no good daddy, to the people in town. He never let them get away with this shit, so she sure as fuck wasn't gunna let her. Her grabbed her arm roughly and jerked her so she would look at him. "Listen 'ere ya fuckin yankee tramp! Ain't done shit to ya and ya wanna go treatin ol' Merle like he committed a damn crime"! A smirk crept back across his face and he softened the grip on her arms. He was a tough one, everyone knew that, even her. But he wasn't one to fight a woman, not too harshly anyway. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but he just couldn't seem to help himself. Truth be told, Merle had always been a flirt by nature, in that smug, sarcastic way. He couldn't put his hands to her but he was going to make her pay for this mess. "C'mon now, princess, ain't nothin' to be scared of. You talk a big game 'bout all them boys in the city, but we both know who really gets your panties soaked." He felt her body tense and she ripped away from him. He hit a nerve and he knew it. "Why ya jump like a deer in a hunter's sight every damn time I come around? Huh? There's something ya wanna share with the class"?

BELLA'S POV

She had heard enough. It's as if he wanted to piss her off today. Dropping the clothes she had gathered from the floor she pushed against his shoulders and shoved him, well tried to shove him. That powerhouse of a man didn't budge. He let out a loud bark of laughter at her failure of an effort, that was the last straw. "I'm not playing this game with you anymore, fuck you! I don't need this shit"! Storming past him she opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Fingers trembling from the adrenaline and fury, she struggled with the cap.

MERLE'S POV

Watching her walk away and quit bothered him more than her cussing. Wasn't no fun poking at her if she didn't bite back. His eyes widened slightly with interest as the new bottle of whiskey was displayed. He stared at it for a few seconds before looking back at her frustrated face. Now he wasn't no damn Romeo, he didn't believe in that chivalry, roses and settling down shit, but he found himself feeling a bit bad now. Shaking his head he grimaced in disgust. The fuck did he feel bad for, he ain't done a damn thing wrong. She was the one comin at him like a pissed off rattler. With a huff he approached her and snatched the bottle from her hands, twisting the cap off with ease. Taking a large swig before placing the bottle back down he eyed her, one last time before picking it back up and walking towards the front door. "Funny how ya ain't playin the game anymore, but ya keep losin'."


End file.
